Fortress
by labyrinthine
Summary: Will's thoughts during 1x11 "Confession"


Title: Fortress  
  
Author: labyrinthine  
  
E-mail: elabyrinthine@yahoo.com  
  
Rating/Classification: PG/vignette  
  
Summary: Will's thoughts during 1x11 "Confession"  
  
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me.  
  
Notes: I realize I'm in the minority as a Syd/Will fan, I really do, so I've tried to make this as not-shippy as I can given the circumstances of the scene. Let me know if I succeeded? As always, incredible thanks to Hil for the threats and encouragement, I wouldn't be writing alias fic if it weren't for you. :)  
  
"Shattered-  
  
Tired, beaten, worn down and tattered and  
  
Can you even hear me?  
  
...I've been resurrecting my,  
  
my fortress to protect myself."  
  
-Sister Hazel  
  
*****  
  
His life would be infinitely less complicated, Will thinks, if he had never found that damn pin. It truly would. But he has never been able to drop a good mystery, and if this whole Eloise Kurtz drama had shown him nothing else, it certainly fits as something mysterious. If he hadn't brought the ugly thing to be analyzed in the first place, he would never have learned it was a transmitter, and if he could only have kept his mouth shut he wouldn't have been contacted by...by whoever was on the other end of that mechanized voice. He could be sleeping - he *should* be sleeping, or else working on the piece he has to submit by tomorrow afternoon if he wants to stay employed another week - but instead, all he can concentrate on is that phone call asking him to 'say the words'. And that he's still going along with it...'I'm in' was so easy to say at the time but wow, the more he thinks about it the more he begins to realize that the whole situation is only going to become more of a mess. With half a dozen possible outcomes weaving themselves in his brain, he all but misses the quick succession of knocks.  
  
He makes his way to the door, looks through the blinds and sees Sydney outside on the stoop. It's odd enough she's here at this hour, he thinks, but her face looks wet too. Funny, he didn't hear it was supposed to rain tonight. He unlocks the door to find her faintly trembling and pale. He says something in greeting and he thinks she does the same, but he's so preoccupied with trying to figure out why she's standing on his porch in the middle of the night to hear her exact words. She hasn't dropped by since his failed attempt at a second kiss. And it's not raining, his mind helpfully supplies, the only thing that's wet is Syd's face which means she's been...crying? But she never cries. He sees her lips moving, she's speaking again, and he just catches the last bit, "...Jenny here?"  
  
"What?" Answer her, Will, he thinks. She asked a question. Jenny. "Oh! No...no." Jenny was...not a mistake, but certainly not worth considering at the moment, especially with Sydney standing in front of him, looking more distressed by the second. "Come on, come on in," speaking as he gestures her into the house and sits opposite her on the couch. He finally gets a good look at her, and is shocked at her defeated appearance. What's wrong, he can't think of the last time he saw her so upset, half aware he's speaking his query outloud. He can't figure it out - even after Danny was killed she only lost her composure in front of him a few times and always insisted she was fine. He's never seen her fall apart like this. Did something happen on her last trip for the bank? He couldn't even remember where she had said she was going this time, somewhere, her trips that kept increasing in frequency just seemed to blur together. It's been ridiculous how many trips she's taken recently, how often she's been away from home...was that it? That she'd been running around so much and just needed time to decompress? Taking another good look at her, he thinks this looks a lot worse than simple stress, and that she's really starting to lose what composure she has left.  
  
He moves across to sit next to her on the couch, and draws her up against him, shushing and trying to calm her down a little. He feels horrible for her and his mind is still racing, trying to figure out what's going on and how he can help. Was someone hurt? She wouldn't cry over something stupid in the office...that guy, with the present, the one he made fun of before, did something happen to him? Movement - Syd's leaning over to lay flush against the couch and draws him down with her. He asks her again to tell him what's wrong, thinking maybe if she told him it would help get whatever it was out of her system. And after a moment she regulates her breathing a little more, about to speak, and finally, Will thinks, she'll let me know what has upset her so much.  
  
"I just want to stay here a little while. If that's ok."  
  
Her softly spoken declaration absolutely floor him. He's speechless at first; suddenly it doesn't even matter what happened that was so bad that brought her here and made her cry, but that she came to his place over every other place she could have gone to, looking for a little human comfort. He assures her it's ok, it's more than ok, and the vice grip Syd has on his left arm just gets tighter as she finally, at last, starts to settle down a little. After a few minutes like this she falls into...something, probably not the most comfortable sleep ever but at least she's resting, he thinks, as her breathing becomes more regulated and she falls slack against him.  
  
Will, on the other hand, is nowhere near sleep; if anything he's more keyed up than before. He can't stop looking at her, can't believe she's here on his couch half nestled against him. He's perfectly aware that this has never happened before and given her track record, won't happen again for a long time. She's made it quite clear that she's not here because of any sort of romantic attachment she might feel towards him, and for once that doesn't even matter. For hours he just sits and looks over her, knowing that quite possibly he'll never have this chance again. He notices that when she does finally fall asleep her features begin to smooth out, and the stress lines on her face that have been accumulating pretty steadily as of late become diminished, and he just keeps looking, because for this moment in time Sydney chose him to keep the demons away and god, he's not going to let her down now. He reaches down to the other end of the couch and draws up a blanket - the one Syd gave him when he finally bought the place a few years ago as a housewarming gift or something, his mind remarks idly - covers them, and keeps his vigil.  
  
He wakes to light filtering in through window blinds, on his couch, alone. He thinks he drifted off a little before dawn, and he assumes that when Syd woke - probably not long after - she just gathered her things and left. He knows how much she hates to appear vulnerable in front of other people; her early morning exit doesn't surprise him. It's a sure bet that what happened last night won't make its way into any future conversations they might have, and that he probably won't ever find out what hurt her badly enough to seek him out. He already knows that when he sees her next, she'll be back to the same old Sydney, walls firmly in place, her fortress refortified to protect her from whatever obstacle she faces next. Maybe being here for her helped just enough to get that started, he thinks, and really, that's all he's ever wanted.  
  
*****  
  
Fortress  
  
elabyrinthine@yahoo.com 


End file.
